


Aiming To Please

by kkingofthebeach



Series: That one band AU [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Blow Jobs, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkingofthebeach/pseuds/kkingofthebeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean would <i>really</i> like to see Cas in some leather pants, and he just can't keep his hands off him in the fitting room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aiming To Please

**Author's Note:**

> THIS SERIES HAS BEEN UPLOADED IN MORE COMPLETE VERSION OVER HERE: [That Band Au](http://archiveofourown.org/works/733969/chapters/1364513)
> 
> I don't really wanna delete this but yeah, this won't be updated, the linked version will be!
> 
> \--  
> just gonna warn you that these instalments will probably not be in chronological order at all - but hopefully that won't matter!! anyway the whole leather pants thing came about in some interesting texts with cesca, and she also drew some [really fab art](http://yourebossy.tumblr.com/post/43344704638) of cas in them too!
> 
> crossposted from tumblr  
> warnings: sub!cas, /sort of/ public sex

"I am not wearing those," Cas says as he stares at the leather pants in Dean's hands. 

"Aw come on," Dean whines, and Cas will be damned if he'll give in to that pout. "All the best rockstars wear them!" 

"Yeah, maybe _thirty_ years ago!" 

Dean rolls his eyes and thrusts the pants at Cas, who knows that there's no way in hell he's gonna win this one. Dean has already dragged him to three other stores to buy a new wardrobe; and if Dean wants Cas in skinny leather pants, than he's probably going to get exactly that. 

"At least try them on," Dean pleads, and he sidles up to Cas to press a kiss just below his ear. "Baby, you'd look so good in them, I just wanna see." 

Cas turns it over in his mind, weighs up his options. He figures there can't be too many cons to this, because Dean seems pretty firm in thinking it'll be the best thing ever, and if he doesn't laugh when Cas wears a bow tie then it's unlikely that he'll laugh at this. The pros are very interesting indeed; there's always the chance that if Dean likes them enough Cas will actually buy them, then use them to get the most out of Dean's weird fetishes. It's not like it's a leather-clad gimp kind of thing - Cas knows that it just stems from Dean's idolisation of rockstars in the 70s and 80s - but next thing he knows he'll probably be trying on cowboy hats and chaps.  

"Okay," Cas sighs, and Dean blinks at him incredulously for a few seconds, as if he genuinely believed Cas would deny him something.  

Dean follows him to the fitting rooms and tries not to throw a bitch fit when Cas makes him wait outside the cubicle. Which, really, is actual torture - because Dean has to sit on a lumpy couch with mysterious stains while the sound of Cas unzipping his jeans fills the air. He’s probably doing it on purpose, Dean thinks; he probably knows full well that he'd never actually make it into the pants if Dean was there watching. 

It's a good thing at least _one_ of them thinks with their brain and not their dick. 

There's more rustling and Dean can just about see Cas stepping into the pants, his only view being the gap underneath the door. He fidgets around on the couch impatiently, already formulating a vision of what Cas will look like when he swings that door open. _God_ , Dean's ready to pop a boner just thinking about it.  

When the door does open and Cas emerges, Dean is acutely aware that it looks even better than the many fantasies this get-up has starred in. The leather hugs Cas' _everything_ , sticking to his flesh like adhesive and showing every minute movement of muscle. Dean would very much like to pounce on Cas, but he can't help but pick out one tiny fault. 

"You need to take your underwear off," he says, all business-like and matter of fact. As if Cas' face wasn't flushed enough already, his cheeks heat up and go crimson, his eyes wide with bewilderment. 

"What?" He hisses, and Dean holds back a laugh, because Cas will let Dean fuck him senseless on a public bathroom sink but he won't go commando in a fitting room.  

"I'm not trying to get you naked - it just doesn't look right! The fabric’s all bunched up underneath."

Cas raises an eyebrow and scoffs - a degree of sass that he would never have shown a couple of months ago - and Dean is forced to believe that sex really has made Cas a cocky bastard. Albeit a cocky bastard who belongs to Dean, and so Cas disappears back into the fitting room. There's more rustling before it goes completely silent, and Dean can see Cas shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.  

"Uh, maybe you should come in here," Cas offers, and Dean doesn't need to be told twice. He jumps up and slips inside, making sure to lock the door behind him before turning to face Cas. 

"Holy shit," Dean breathes as he drinks it all in. Cas is standing in front of him with his lip caught between his teeth, looking anywhere but at Dean as his hands fall limply to his sides. Clearly Dean was wrong when he thought the leather couldn't cling any tighter to Cas' skin, because now the guy looks downright _dirty_. He's wearing one of Dean's old t-shirts, something that's become a disgustingly cute habit of Cas', and it's just short enough to show a strip of inviting skin between its hem and the top of the pants - pants that are _extremely_ low slung.  

They sit against Cas' hips and it would be downright sinful for them to be cut any lower. Dean can see a whole range of things on show: the jut of hipbones on each side, the V-shaped groove of his Apollo's belt, and the dark trail of hair that begins at his navel and disappears beneath the waistband. It should be classified as straight-up porn, what with the way Cas' package is perfectly framed, outlining the shape of his cock. 

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat. 

"They're too small." 

"They're supposed to be like that." 

" _Dean_ ," Cas whines, not knowing that the sound has Dean's blood instantly heading south. "They're way too tight." 

"They're perfect," Dean practically purrs, and he hooks his fingers into the waistband of the pants to pull Cas flush against his chest. "You look perfect." 

"What are you doing?" Cas asks when Dean nips at his jaw - as if he doesn't know already.

Dean smirks and tugs Cas a little closer, hands slipping down and around to cup his ass. "Showing my appreciation." He brings his mouth to Cas', stopping just a few millimetres away to share the same breath, until Cas finally parts his lips. "Good boy," Dean whispers, then he pushes forward and slides his tongue into Cas' mouth, kissing him slow and open until the stiffness has left his limbs and Cas is rocking up into Dean's body. Dean kisses him until his mouth is pink and swollen, pulling away to sink his teeth into Cas' bottom lip as his hands start to wander again. 

Cas' breath hitches when Dean's fingers come to rest at the front of his pants; only where there should be a button and fly, there's the crisscross of a laced-up opening. Dean knows that Cas will probably freak out if he gives him the chance, so Dean latches his mouth to Cas' neck to form a distraction, sucking and biting red marks into the skin. And while Cas is busy pushing his hands up Dean's shirt, he barely even notices Dean pulling at the laces until his pants are splayed open.

All Cas says is a shaky _oh shit_ as Dean takes his cock out of his pants and gives it a few slow strokes. 

"We can't - not here - Dean we can't." Only Cas doesn't sound all that convinced, and Dean is already having too much fun to stop. He pushes Cas up against the wall and sinks down to his knees, grin only growing wider at the flash of terror in Cas' eyes. "We're going to get thrown out!" 

Dean yanks Cas' pants down to his knees and bites gently at the inside of his thigh. "Only if we get caught." 

Cas looks hesitant, but he nods anyway and places a hand on Dean's shoulder, fingers digging hard into the muscle already. Dean would love to take his time with this, have Cas slumped against the wall and shaking with drawn out anticipation, but he'll settle for blowing his brains out with a quickie. Dean wraps a hand around the base of Cas' cock and swipes the flat of his tongue against the slit, teasing mercilessly with long licks and just the press of his lips. 

"Please, Dean - please." 

Dean looks up at Cas, his eyes already dark and half closed, eyelashes casting shadows across his bright cheeks. And _fuck_ , he does look like a rockstar: disheveled hair, bags under his eyes from too many late nights with Dean, a well-worn shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, leather pants pushed down as he gets sucked off. Cas really is living the life of a lead singer - granted, he's swapped the underage groupies for monogamous sex, but it's still fucking perfect. 

Dean seals his lips around the head of Cas' cock and sinks down, keeping his eyes locked with Cas' until his nose brushes his abdomen. Cas exhales a wobbly breath when Dean begins to move, sucking hard and taking him as deep as he can. Dean loves it, the heady taste of Cas' cock tinged with the slight bitterness of salt, the feeling of his tongue gliding against the vein on the underside, the soft little moans that Cas chokes out just because of Dean's mouth. It's as close to heaven he thinks he'll ever get, having Cas squirm under him in any and every way possible. 

Cas knows that Dean's not giving him everything yet, and he bucks up and pushes his cock further down Dean's throat. Cas lets out a rough groan, but it's cut off when Dean uses his forearm to pin Cas' hips back against the wall and pulls off of his cock, cold air hitting it. "Don't fucking move, sweetheart." 

Cas practically whimpers and gets enough brain cells working to stutter out a quick _yeah, fuck, okay._  

"Fuck, Dean, please I just - I need you--" 

Dean doesn't waste another second and takes Cas into his mouth again, moaning at the stretch of his lips and the nudge at the back of his throat. He holds Cas down with both hands now, fingers pushing hard enough into his sides to leave bruises that'll last for days, reminders that Cas will admire in the mirror and flaunt with too-small t-shirts that ride up when he stretches. Dean sucks him down faster, and when Cas groans just a fraction too loud he stills, nails indenting marks into Cas' skin until he bites down on his fist to muffle the sound. 

Dean feels Cas' body tense up before he makes a guttural sound around his hand, and then he's spilling into Dean's mouth, trembling as Dean swallows it all down and pulls off with a filthy pop. Once Dean releases his hold on Cas, his legs give out entirely and Cas slinks to the ground, chest still heaving and his eyes closed. Dean smiles smugly to himself and crawls over to Cas, getting close enough to talk quietly into his ear.

"You definitely have to buy the pants now, don't you?"


End file.
